Sometimes You Leave
by AHigherOctave
Summary: I’m forced to watch your blond hair bounce along your back as you make your way to the door.


S o m e t i m e s y o u l e a v e .

I'm forced to watch your blond hair bounce along your back as you make your way to the door. I want to stop you, to yell at you, to fight for you, to do all the things in those stupid movies you love so much and I hate with every part of me. I don't though. Why don't I? (S c a r e d)

I wander the hallways, throwing a slushie here. Tormenting a kid in a wheelchair there. I keep moving because that's what I was taught. You can't fall apart once (y o u c a n ' t l e t s o m e o n e h u r t y o u), or you could become a middle-aged Hispanic woman who spends all her time in bed eating fancy French chocolate that your mattress-tycoon grandfather pays for in monthly installments.

- - -

S o m e t i m e s y o u l i e .

And you do it so well it's hard to hear the truth through. With those bright green doe-eyes of yours and that sad little quiver in your perfectly kissable lips. It takes some people (m e) a while to get past the fact that something so angelic can be so…so…(d e m o n i c).

And when I do figure it out, it only makes matters worse. It turns out that frustrated teenagers with abandonment issues like myself like nothing better than a good girl who goes bad with a little encouragement (e v e n i f s h e i s s u p p o s e d t o be yo u r b e s t f r i e n d ' s . . .) It turns out abandonment issues just means we like out loneliness.

- - -

S o m e t i m e s y o u s m i l e .

Upon rare occasion, you accidentally (o n p u r p o s e?) turn towards me with one planted on your pretty face. I know it's a fluke, because you scowl and turn (j u m p) the other way. You look at a brown-haired, brown-eyed boy with a stick where his brain should be and I feel that familiar feeling of disappointment (j e a l o u s y) rising in my chest.

You have to force yourself to look away, to go for second best. The brown-haired, brown-eyed girl who makes you want to light yourself on fire (n o t t h e s e x y w a y) and force your tongue further and further down her throat. You pretend her hair is the flaxen curls you want to run your fingers through (r a t h e r t h a n t h e s t r a i g h t c h o c o l a t e t h a t e i t i s ).

- - -

S o m e t i m e s y o u c r y.

Anger (p a s s i o n) is the only thing I'm able to convince myself I make you feel. You're angry at me for ruining your life over one drunken night you wish (w i l l n e v e r) forget. You're angry at me for being the reason your blood red cheerleading uniform (c h a s t i t y b e l t) won't fit anymore. You don't even know why you're angry you just are.

You're golden hair whips around as you yell (l i k e a h a l o). Your hazel eyes turn that brilliant green (e m e r a l d). Your porcelain skin suddenly develops a pink tint to it (t h e s a me w a y i t d o e s w h e n y o u g e t c o l d). And I see this swirling goddess in front of me, chocking back tears. And even when you leave (r u n a w a y), I can't convince myself it's worth it to stop.

- - -

S o m e t i m e s y o u l o v e.

It's unavoidable (f a t e). I catch (s t a l k) you in the hallway alone when you should be in Statistics. Your standing against your locker smiling down and talking (c o o i n g) to your stomach. You tell her she'll be pretty and smart and she'll never have to deal with this, you promise. Auntie Terri and Uncle Will are going to take good care of her and make her a nice warm home. You drop your books and she looks up. The word escapes your mouth before you can think (l i k e y o u w o u l d a n y w a y s).

"N O."

You stare at me for a minute, looking so disturbed (a l o n e), that I hardly recognize you. You bite your lip and shake your head. And I inhale, ready to take whatever whiplash that you're sure to throw at me (b e c a u s e i t ' s a l l i g e t). Silence follows though and I look up to see you staring at the floor. I call your name.

"O k a y ."

And you walk away (l e a v e) without another word (l i e). And I grin (s m i l e) to myself because you finally didn't yell (c r y). And…

S o m e t i m e s y o u s u r p r i s e m e.

**AN: **I was reading and contemplating the lack of Quick scenes tonight, fuming about it really. And I stumbled upon the "sometimes you leave" thing in my book. And I just kind of developed this. I know it's short…but I didn't want to get too redundant.


End file.
